


White Lady of the Eastern Sea

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Goddesses, Gods, Hubris, Magic, Winter, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:32:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the third year of her conquest, Jadis locked Aslan out of Narnia and plunged that country into endless winter. But there are other powers in the world, and not all of them are pleased at the sudden changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Lady of the Eastern Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redsnake05](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/gifts).



> Dear redsnake05, this story was originally going to be a response to your first prompt. Alas, that idea refused to resolve into writable form -- attempting to write from a deity's POV seems to be my literary kryptonite -- so I shook some of the same base elements into something meant as a response to your third prompt. The thing is, I'm not sure this fic is really what you wanted for that prompt either. I think it is more of a strange chimerical hybrid that doesn't quite fill any of your requests, though it makes gestures in their general direction. I am sorry about that. I hope you enjoy the results despite my flailing.
> 
> Thank you to Vicky for beta-reading!

The writing on the Stone Table was in the same language and script as the record of the Deep Magic on the World-Ash Tree that grew by the walled garden in the uttermost west, yet Jadis could not read it. Here in Narnia, the cradle and heart of the world, some echo of the Lion's power always lingered and fought her own magic. The letters mazed into nonsense; words dissolved into air a bare heartbeat after she seized their meaning. The constant interruptions, both by mortals and by the petty gods of this land, were yet another obstacle.

But Jadis persevered.

In the third year of her conquest, she interpreted one full line of the writing, one new piece of the Deep Magic. It revealed no secrets of creation, nor the way to walk between worlds, but the knowledge gained was enough for her to lock the Lion out of his chosen land.

As an afterthought, she also locked out the petty gods who served him: the gift-bringer, the wine-drinker and his train of bloodstained nymphs, the lady of the trees, and others of their ilk. Those she could not banish, like the embodiments of the river and the moon, she bound into sleep until the breaking of her power. Lastly she locked the borders to everything but wind and water, to stave off the distraction of mortal attempts to overthrow her rule.

Snow and ice descended upon Narnia as she worked, high summer falling into deep winter months before the natural turn of seasons, for Jadis's magic still followed the patterns set for her in the early days of this world. The freeze was an inconvenience, but a small price to pay for the satisfaction of thwarting the Lion's will.

The spells took six nights and days to cast: six nights to carve her own letters into the earth around the Table, to alloy the language and script of Charn with that of the Deep Magic; and six days to wrench this portion of the world to obey her will, to grasp all its magic in her hands and reshape it to her desires.

On the seventh night Jadis slept upon the Stone Table. Snow fell gently through the dark hours to cover her like a blanket of softest silk, but she felt no cold. Her veins already ran with ice, and this winter was merely an extension of her self.

On the seventh day Jadis woke gasping for air, her dreams a muddle of hateful gold and the weight of the Lion's paws on her ribs. When she opened her eyes to prove her fears unfounded, she saw neither the blue sky nor the white-shrouded trees. The unexpected intruder at the edge of the hilltop drove all else out of mind.

The shape of a woman hovered in the air just outside Jadis's spell circles: a shifting, half-tangible figure woven from sleet and wind, tinged with the salt scent of the sea. The weight of her power spilled out and over the hilltop like waves, pressing the new-fallen snow into ice and filling Jadis's lungs until she felt as if she were drowning on dry land.

She had missed one goddess in her ban.

The goddess drifted over the edge of Jadis's earth-carved letters, fraying somewhat in the process. Once inside the circle, she coalesced into almost solid flesh, but still nothing that could be mistaken for mortal: white skin like diamond-powder snow, white dress like foam on the sea, white hair like mare's-tail clouds, white eyes like the afterglow of lightning. She sank until her toes grazed the fragile surface of the ice and walked forward to trace her fingers along the Stone Table's edge, filling the ancient, secret letters with a rime of frost.

"You froze my sea," the goddess said.

There was neither threat nor curiosity in her tone. She merely stated a fact, her voice and bearing as impersonal as the ocean she claimed as her dominion.

Jadis gathered her will and pushed back against the pressure of the goddess's power until she was sure she would not break or waver at the slightest movement. Then she stood from the Table, feet crunching deep into the ice-crusted snow, and adjusted her dress and crown in an attempt to leash her rage. Her wand and knife hung ready at her side, and her new-forged spell channeled all the magic of Narnia into and through her. She was more than strong enough to drive out a so-called deity. How could a mere echo of magic, shaped by human whims to a stone-set pattern, stand against someone who was written into this world's bones at its dawn of time? How dare this creature even try?

"Narnia is mine," she said, layering all her authority into her voice. "Its waters are also mine, and what I do to them is none of your concern. Leave my land and tell the Lion that I will be the death of all his hopes."

"Narnia is yours by right of blood and conquest," the goddess agreed. So easily! Without even a protest! Yet still her power surged and pounded against Jadis like waves upon the shore. Jadis ground her teeth and waited for the poison in the proffered hand of peace.

"As for Aslan," the goddess continued, "why should I tell him anything? His plans are none of my concern. Nor are yours, provided you withdraw your spell from my waters."

Ah, there was the sting.

"No," Jadis said.

The goddess turned slowly to meet Jadis's gaze with her eerie, glowing eyes.

"No?" she said, and now an echo of thunder rumbled in her voice as the shadow of distant storms bled into her dress and hair.

"No," Jadis repeated.

The goddess stared at her in electric silence. Jadis let her hand drop to touch the hilt of her stone knife. She had no idea if the implicit threat meant anything to a creature for whom a body was clearly an afterthought, but she was sure the spells she had wrought into the blade would wound a soul as easily as flesh. She had shaped it to kill the Lion, but if this goddess pushed, Jadis would strike her down without a qualm.

And then the goddess threw back her head and laughed: a long, wild peal of mirth that creaked like sea ice and chimed like hail, the first true sign of _self_ that she had shown. Her body frayed once more with the force of her laughter, swirling into the merest sketch of mist against the frame of white earth and blue sky.

"Jadis of Charn," the goddess said when her humor ran its course, "that was not a request. I am Allinwy of the Isles and the Eastern Sea is mine. It has been mine since my people first plunged through a gate and set sail upon its waters. I owe no fealty to Narnia or the Lion, but Bacchus is my friend of old and both he and Pomona are dear to my sister. Reset your boundaries or I promise the eastern edge of your spell will never hold true. What you weave upon my waves, I can and will unravel. Your spell will become a gate without locks -- and when Aslan comes, he comes ever from the east."

Jadis drew her knife and swallowed against the sudden dryness of her throat. "I ruled a world and chose its time of death. I came to this world before the dawn of time and carved myself into its heart and bones," she said, and drew strength from the truth of her words. "You are a phantasm dreamed into being by the petty fear and greed of humans. What makes you think you have the power to force my hand? What makes you think yourself above me?"

Allinwy's mist swirled around Jadis like a cloak. "Little queen, I am a god," she said, her voice echoing from all directions and none. "Do you know what that means? A god is someone who can be in two places at once, and who cannot be summoned or commanded against her will. How we come to that power makes no difference; once gained, it cannot be lost. You have made this land a place where a handful of gods cannot be, but you lack the power and knowledge to make that ban last forever, and the ones you cast out have homes in many worlds. We can wait for you to fall."

Jadis slashed at the mist with her knife, but it parted ahead of the blow and the goddess took no harm.

"Reset your boundaries, Jadis of Narnia," Allinwy said, and then her presence dissolved away to nothing.

Jadis stood very still for a long time, wrestling down her rage and relearning how to breathe out from under the oppressive weight of the goddess's power.

Then she said, very softly, to the empty air: "You should not have told me your secret, Allinwy of the Isles. If gods can come into their power, I can become a god. Even if not, any child knows that gods, like all things, can die. I will not reset my borders. I will kill the Lion. I will kill your people. And I will find the world where you were born and make you beg for it to share the fate of Charn."

Jadis sheathed her knife and began the long work of breaking the ice and scraping new letters into the pattern of her spell. Locking gods out by name was not enough. She would lock them all out together, all creatures that fit Allinwy's words. Far from resetting her borders, she would drive this goddess out of Narnia's waters; no boast or threat of the Lion would make her retreat. Let him come from the east, through Allinwy's promised unlocked gate. She would kill him all the same.

A gust of wind blew in from the distant shore to run cold, salt-tinged fingers through her hair, but she ignored it, as she also ignored the gathering dark-bellied clouds. She was too far inland for the sea to reach, and none of winter's faces held anything for her to fear. Allinwy would learn that soon enough.

As Jadis reworked her spell, new snow began to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Some thoughts on my writing process and the background to this story are available [here on my journal](http://edenfalling.dreamwidth.org/872181.html).


End file.
